


Mr. Deere's Wild Ride

by heavvymetalqueen, SkazuhiraMiller



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Comedy, Established Ocelhira, I hate when mom and dad fight..., M/M, Mild Tractor Domination, Shitposting With Feelings, The Most Awkward Senior Officer Meeting in Diamond Dogs History, V is a good friend, crayon drawings, some truly awful euphemisms, we actually drew in crayon it's fucking embedded ok?, why did he NAME it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-26
Updated: 2018-02-26
Packaged: 2019-03-24 05:53:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13804812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heavvymetalqueen/pseuds/heavvymetalqueen, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkazuhiraMiller/pseuds/SkazuhiraMiller
Summary: Miller and Ocelot's relationship faces its biggest challenge yet: a tractor Ocelot Fultoned in named Mr. Deere he INSISTS they keep.





	Mr. Deere's Wild Ride

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was an (incredibly fun) collaborative effort between SkazuhiraMiller and heavvymetalqueen... we'd been talking and shitposting about "Tractor AU" for months and when Winter Games had the collab challenge... well... we had to. Each of us wrote different parts of this monstrosity.
> 
> If you're wondering "where does such an idea come from" it stems from when Lia said an easy way to tell Kaz and Ocelot's voices apart is "if he sounds like he wants to show you his tractor, it's Ocelot"  
> ... Do It For Mr. Deere
> 
> For the Ocelot's crayon drawing part we both attempted our own renditions of it and decided to include both. Enjoy.

Major Ocelot was, despite his best efforts, helplessly lost. He should have grabbed a map before abandoning his jeep, but at the time he was more concerned with getting out of the burning vehicle before it blew up. Which it did only a few seconds after he’d thrown himself into the sand, deafening him and scorching the ends of his hair.

He’d handled the ambush that had killed his driver on their way to Kandahar, but after that he was still stranded, without a car or a map, in the middle of the Registan desert.

It was fine. If he started walking, he’d eventually reach the end of it, right? Or at least a spot close enough to the Diamond Dogs AO to send a distress call.

It was hot and his boots sank into the sand, but he kept walking. His ears still rang from the explosion and the sun was at zenith. No way to even tell which way he was facing, at least for a while. He just walked, sweat dripping down his neck. He was quite thirsty. A wavy haze wafted from the endless dunes, blurring his vision. Mirages of mountains and buildings were already starting to dance in the distance, glossy and unreal.

One of them, however, seemed a bit too real, and seemed to actually get closer as Ocelot approached. It was green. It had large wheels as tall as he was.

It was a _tractor_.

And it wasn’t a mirage. It was _real_.

The whine in his ears sounded a bit too close to the saxophone of that song Venom liked to play a little too much as he approached the tractor. It was just sitting there, in the middle of the desert. Why? How? It didn’t matter. He clambered inside, sighing from the relief of the sun not beating down directly on his head anymore.

There were keys in the ignition. He turned them, his heart hammering in his throat and George Michael singing loudly in his head. The battery had to be dead, right….?

 _-crrr -crrr -crrr -crrr_ and then on the fifth turn of the key the engine came to life. He stepped on the pedals, cranked the gearstick against the sand caked onto it, and when he released the clutch, the tractor surged forward. Very slowly.

He was saved. It was slow, but he wasn’t in direct sunlight anymore, and if the fuel indicator was right this tractor could easily take him all the way to Kandahar without a hitch.

He could almost taste the water he was going to guzzle the second he hit civilization again.

***

Kaz signed the asset acquisition form and moved it into the Done pile. The Combat Team would do well with that armored vehicle, even if it was a little banged up. He examined the next one on the To-Do stack. Vehicle, Other. A… full-sized tractor. Extracted from Kandahar by… Ocelot?

Alright, this was definitely in the running for weirdest asset acquisition form that he’d ever processed. Well, since that time in Costa Rica with the shipping container full of slogan T-shirts. They had all seemed to be targeted towards dads, or something. Shit like “I ♡ Fishing” and “Killer Griller.”  This tractor, however-- Diamond Dogs could sell it off for some GMP. All of the farming operations were hydroponic. He marked it for appraisal and immediate sale. Signed. Dated. Made a mental note to tell Ocelot good job -- acquiring saleable goods, and not even on a Diamond Dogs mission. He moved it to the Done pile.

About an hour after Swan took out the stack of finished acquisition forms, Kaz heard his office door open with a familiar jingle. He looked up, beaming.

“Ocelot. Great job on--” his sentence was cut short by the sound of Ocelot’s hands slamming a familiar piece of paperwork down on the desk.

“Miller. You can’t sell Mr. Deere.”

Kaz frowned. “I-- excuse me?”

“Mr. Deere. The tractor. You can’t sell him. He saved my life.”

“It’s a _tractor._ How could it save your life and since _when_ do you form such strong attachments to things?”

“I wouldn’t have made it out of the desert if I hadn’t found him…”

“Stop calling it _him_ , it’s a fucking tractor! Diamond Dogs can’t use a tractor for anything!”

“But he-- it’s really cool! Come see Mr. Deere with me. You’ll understand, I promise.”

Promises had never been Revolver Ocelot’s strong suit. Who the fuck would’ve guessed? Ocelot brought them to the shady corner of some platform and pointed to a green tractor with yellow rims. It was in pretty good condition for being found out in the Afghan desert. Almost shiny, even. They could get a _decent_ payout on that thing.

“There he is,” Ocelot sighed, voice dreamy, “Mr. Deere. So what do you think? Beauty, ain’t he?” He looked expectantly over at Kaz.

“It’s a fucking tractor. What do we need it for?”

“Don’t you think it would be nice to drive it down to the conservation platform… watch the sunset… eat some corn on the cob… and -”

“Pay for _all_ the helicopter fuel that would take?” What had gotten _into_ him?

“C’mon,” Ocelot said, sweeping his arm around Kaz, scooping him up, and climbing to the driver’s seat of the tractor all in one fluid motion.

“Put me _down,_ ” Kaz seethed.

Ocelot put him down alright. Into his _lap_.

“It’ll be fun,” he purred, “I could give the conservation team the evening off.” His gloved hand closed around Kaz’s. “I’ll even let you help me drive,” he said as he guided Kaz’s only hand awkwardly across his body to the gear shift. He moved Kaz’s hand down, and up the length of the gear shift in languid strokes. _Is he fucking serious?_  Two could play at this game.

“ _Nnnnh,_ Ocelot, that sounds… amazing,” Kaz murmured, taking back his hand to rest on Ocelot’s inner thigh. Kaz readjusted his positioning a little. Well. _That_ was no revolver.  He shifted his weight until Ocelot sharply inhaled, followed by a whimper- ah yes, the sound of _dick crushing_.

“Don’t _ever_ put me in a tractor against my will again.” He let that sink in for a bit without moving an inch.

Ocelot was breathless. “ _Kaz_...”

Kaz leaned into it further for a moment. A lot of _nerve_ , using that name like that. Ocelot got the message, though. Kaz rolled his hips against Ocelot _once_ before making an attempt to stand up. He batted away Ocelot’s offered hand. “Don’t touch me.” After a good thirty seconds’ struggle he managed to stand up and hop down from the cab.

“So, ah, I take it you _didn’t_ think that sounded amazing,” Ocelot said, trying to cover up the disappointment and huskiness in his voice.

“ _Of course not_. What do you think I am, a teenage girl from Tennessee?” He picked up his cane and hobbled away to leave Ocelot alone with his shame and blue balls.

***

Venom waved goodbye to Pequod and stepped onto the helipad, followed closely by DD. He’d been away for almost two weeks. Eager to find out what he missed out on and then get some rest, Venom approached the line of Support Team members who stood out to see him in. He recognized Dastardly Swan, one of Kaz’s direct assistants.

“So, what’s been going on?” he asked Swan.

“Things on base haven’t been the same since Tactical Instructor Ocelot brought back…” His eyes went distant. “...that tractor.”

“You’re going to have to elaborate.” Tractor?

“He brought back a tractor from a mission and I haven’t seen the Commander this pissed since the whole.. Quiet debacle. I went to his office to deliver some papers and I heard him muttering about how ‘tractor’ is only one letter away from ‘traitor.’ Me and the other Support guys have been trying to stay on his good side.”

Danger Worm looked like he had something to add. Venom turned to him. “Worm?”

“Uh, yeah, I made the mistake of asking him if he knew why Instructor Ocelot is acting so weird lately and he snapped at me and said, _Why don’t you go ask the tractor?_ ”

“And did you?”

“Ha… Good one, Boss,” Worm stammered. Must’ve been one hell of an outburst with a response like that.

“Hmm, alright, thanks.” Venom nodded and dismissed the Support Team. Kaz wasn’t usually _this_ unreasonable about something as small as a tractor. He _was going_ to get to the bottom of this.

The best place to start was probably the tractor-owner himself. But like his namesake, he was being elusive today. Wasn’t in his office. So Venom ventured to the Intel platform. He didn’t find Ocelot there, but he found Bastard Dingo, who worked closely alongside Ocelot on Intel.

“Yeah, he’s been worse for wear recently,” Dingo said, lighting a cigarette.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, the working theory is that the Commander kicked him out. I’ve seen him sleeping in the tractor at night. Has been for the past five nights at least, or so I’ve heard.”

Sleeping in the tractor? For fuck’s sake, Ocelot. “Doesn’t he have his own quarters?”

“You know him…  He’s gotta be dramatic. Me and the boys on intel think it’s a ploy to make the Commander feel sorry for him and take him back.”

“And let me guess, it’s just pissing him off more.” That kind of shit would _never_ work on Kaz, especially not coming from Ocelot. He should really know better.

“Well, for that you’d have to ask the Commander.” Venom was _not_ looking forward to talking to Kaz about this.

Maybe Ocelot would be at the training range, shooting with the recruits. No dice. Venom approached Jade Tree Frog, who had just started packing up her gear. “You seen Ocelot?”

“Not today, but yesterday I got the highest marks at shooting practice, so he let me drive the tractor. It was really fun, showed me all the gears and even let me operate the bucket attachment! Well, fun until we passed by Commander Miller. He looked at me like _I_ was one of the bastards who took his limbs or something. It was… frankly kind of terrifying and I haven’t been near the tractor since. I hate when Mom and Dad fight...” What did you _do,_ Ocelot?

Venom’s next stop was medical. He was running out of options, to be honest. Maybe he’d gotten a cold from dramatically sleeping outside in a tractor? Who knew with Ocelot.

“I examined instructor Ocelot when he came back from his GRU mission and that was the last I saw of him,” Scowling Tarantula informed him, “He was heavily dehydrated and having what looked like a mild psychotic episode.” He looked down at his medical files. “I assume it was simple heatstroke, even if he denied it, but if his behavior has been weird…”

“Not any weirder than usual, really,” sighed Venom, massaging his temples. He was definitely starting to get a migraine. “Does heatstroke usually cause unreasonable attachment to...say, vehicles?”

“This is about the tractor, isn’t it,” sighed Tarantula. “Instructor Ocelot wouldn’t stop talking about how it…saved him, in the field. About hearing songs while he rode it. I suppose between the dehydration, the slight brain damage caused by the sun, and what looked like withdrawal from several types of opioids, hallucinations and weird attachments are not unlikely.” He scribbled something on a notebook and tore the page, handing it to Venom. “If he starts acting oddly or blacking out, please tell him to come see me? He might have gotten head trauma we didn’t notice at first.”

Venom pocketed the piece of paper absently. Head trauma and brain damage weren’t exactly news, when it came to Ocelot.

Hearing music, though? _That_ was a little worrying.

Only R&D and Support left. He hoped he’d find him on the R&D platform. He really, really needed a shower, and a ten hour nap.

He was in luck, because the first R&D Lab he checked, he ran into Ocelot showing a paper to Jumping Harrier.

“With all due respect, sir, several parts of this design don’t make any sense. The tractor--”

“Mr. Deere,” Ocelot corrected.

“Mister… Deere… has two seats, right? If you just wanted the trac- I mean, Mr. Deere, to be more accessible to Commander Miller, might I suggest retractable steps and a handhold to make it easier for him to climb?”

“See, this is why you’re the expert!”

Upon closer examination, the paper appeared to be a crayon drawing of what looked like some kind of sidecar apparatus for the tractor entitled “HOW TO MAKE KAZ LIKE MR. DEERE.” . A masterfully rendered and beaming Kaz (indicated by a large arrow and his name) was seated in the sidecar. Ocelot (indicated by an arrow and “ME”) was driving the tractor (“MR. DEERE”) and there were tiny hearts (“HEARTS”).

“I hope you returned the crayons to the children’s platform,” Venom remarked. Ocelot and Harrier’s gazes snapped up to Venom.

“Boss! I didn’t hear you come in!” Harrier said, saluting.

Venom waved his hand in dismissal. “I’m not a stealth infiltration expert for nothing.” He turned to Ocelot. “So the reason why Kaz doesn’t like the tractor is because it’s not accessible to him?”

“Well-”

“Not exactly?”  
  
“It’s-”  
  
“If that’s not it, he’s gonna hate this. If there’s one thing I know about Kaz it’s that he hates feeling condescended to, especially for _that_. You of all people should know that.” He turned to Harrier. “Ocelot and I are going to have a word before you start work on anything.” Harrier nodded.

Venom followed Ocelot outside and around the corner to where he parked the tractor. Ocelot gestured for Venom to get into the cab. They could have this conversation in the tractor, Venom _supposed_. Ocelot didn’t need anyone else giving him unnecessary grief about the tractor. Necessary grief, on the other hand…  

“Did you really think that would work?” he demanded, settling into the surprisingly comfortable passenger side.

“I just thought if it was easier for him, he’d--”

“Not the sidecar. The whole sleeping in the tractor charade. Did you seriously think that would make him take you back?”

“That’s… That wasn’t my intention,” Ocelot said, voice barely audible over the sound of the engine starting up.

“Then what _was_ your intention? I can almost guarantee you’re making him madder with that little stunt. I know how it goes. He’ll see how sad he made you and take pity.”

“It’s not a stunt. I didn’t take the whole thing real well… I figured at least I have my tractor. It’s… comforting. Sleeping in my own bed would just remind me of how he’s not there.” This… was much worse than Venom anticipated.

“And sleeping in a tractor doesn’t?”

“The bond between a man and his tractor should not be underestimated.”

“Y’know, I was going to ask you _why_ Kaz kicked you out but saying shit like that… I can almost see it.”

“V....”

“Really, though. Why did he do it?”

“We had… a disagreement.” Ocelot stopped the tractor to let a supply vehicle cross ahead.

“That so?”

“Yeah. He wanted to sell Mr. Deere and I wouldn’t let him.”

“And so he kicked you out and has been absolutely peeved for a week because he didn’t get to sell a tractor? Am I missing something?” _Somehow,_ that didn’t seem like the whole story.

Ocelot looked away, towards the ocean. Venom decided not to push it. For all he knew based on this set of facts, Kaz could’ve caught wind of some sort of… steamy… or rather...  _diesely affair…_ and that was _definitely_ none of Venom’s business.

“So why don’t you talk to him about it?” Venom asked, swerving the _hell_ away from that last train of thought.

Ocelot was dumbfounded. “Talk to him?”

“Yes, you know, the thing you do to remediate when you’ve upset people you care about.” Come to think of it, Ocelot probably wasn’t used to that.

“But… He doesn’t even want to look at me, much less listen to me, and, well…” he swallowed, “I don’t want to lose him over this.”

“Are you listening to yourself? You just told me you don’t want to lose Kaz _over a tractor._ ”

“It’s the truth.”

“You said he doesn’t want to listen to you. Maybe you should try listening to him for a change.”

Ocelot shifted, uncomfortable. “I’m pretty sure if I go anywhere near his office or quarters he’ll throw something. But.. maybe you could talk to him. Tell him… I’m willing to listen. You’re good with this kind of thing.”

Venom sighed. “Alright. But just this once. You two should be able to sort out your disputes over toys.”

Ocelot opened his mouth. Venom cut him off. “But I’m doing it tomorrow after I sleep off the massive migraine this whole thing has given me. Thanks for the ride.”

“No, thank _you_ , V.”

Venom hopped down from Mr.-- actually, better not call it that if he was preparing to be diplomatic with Kaz tomorrow. He paused. “Oh, and Ocelot? Please sleep in your own bed tonight.”

V wasn’t sure if it was the migraine talking but he was pretty sure he heard Ocelot pat the steering wheel and _apologize_ to the tractor. _Maybe try that on Kaz,_ he had to stop himself from saying.  


***

Venom was up early the next morning, feeling refreshed and definitely more inclined to sorting out his commanding officers lovers-slash-farming-equipment spat. He even climbed all the way up to the communications department, which for some reason always had the best coffee on base, and brought a steaming cup of that and a still warm pastry from the mess hall as an offering that would, hopefully, let him leave Kaz’s quarters unscathed.

The small cardboard box by the door, containing a couple red scarves, a pack of slavic cigarettes, and what looked like a faded ironic t-shirt was a bad omen already.

“Fuck off,” growled Kaz from behind the door when Venom knocked.

This was going to be fun. “It’s V.”

Silence.

“I...have coffee?”

Finally the led above the door blinked green, and Venom stepped through into the den of the beast.

Den was the right term, considering how much it _smelled_.

“Glad to see you’re back,” muttered Kaz from his angry cocoon of blankets, not taking his bleary eyes off the slowly scrolling timeline of his iDroid.

Venom carefully set down the mug and the tissue wrapped pastry on whatever little space on the nightstand that wasn’t occupied by documents, stained mugs, and food wrappers. He sat on the edge of the bed, ready to bolt if Kaz threw something at him.

But Kaz didn’t throw anything. He scrolled through the intranet news for a few more minutes, then finally turned the iDroid off to look up. “What do you want, V.”

“Hopefully, to drag you out of your depression cave.” He nodded at the nightstand. “I brought you a croissant.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“When’s the last time you ate?”

Kaz shrugged, sinking deeper into the grimy blanket.

“Or showered? It smells like DD after a thunderstorm in here.” He paused, considering the situation. “If you need help, I can…”

“I don’t need help _showering_ ,” growled Kaz, sitting up to angrily snatch the coffee off the nightstand.

Venom decided to drop the issue. “So. Care to tell me why I came back to Ocelot sleeping in a tractor on the intel platform?”

Kaz let out a drawn, frustrated groan. “Of course he is. Manipulative little…”

“Kaz.”

“Look. He’s the one who brought that damn thing home. I was going to just sell it, but he insisted we keep it.”

“It’s just a tractor, why can’t he keep it?”

Kaz stared into his coffee, his brows knitted together. “He’s _weird_ about it. Did you know he named it?”

“Mr. Deere, yes, I heard.”

Kaz snorted. “He can’t talk about anything else. Mr. Deere this, Mr. Deere that, Kaz you should come take a ride on it - _over my dead body_ ,” he hissed the last part.

Venom waited for Kaz to put down the mug before asking, “Are you jealous of a tractor?”

“No!” He looked down. “Maybe. I don’t know. It’s so stupid. I wouldn’t even give a fuck if he hadn’t tried to….” he shook his head with a grunt. “We had an _agreement_. No more _bullshit_. No more _manipulation_.”

Venom pinched the base of his horn. The migraine was back. “He tried to seduce you on the tractor, didn’t he.”

“ _How did you guess,”_ snorted Kaz.

“Look,” he tried, carefully choosing his words. “I know it’s a delicate subject for you two, but I’m sure he did not intend to manipulate you. I talked to him last night. He seems genuinely upset that you’re so angry at him.”

“Good. Fuck him.” Kaz ripped the tissues off the croissant and stuffed it into his mouth.

“Kaz. This is not even remotely about the tractor, is it?”

Kaz chewed angrily, swallowed, and finally shook his head. “No. I don’t give a fuck about the tractor. It’s just...it’s like he can’t stop lying to me. Trying to gaslight me. Fucking _disrespect_ me in front of the _whole base_.”

“You know the base doesn’t give a damn. All they care about is their commander being happy. Morale is pretty weird when you two fight.”

“Well, he should have thought of that before he scooped me up and tried to grope me on a _tractor_.”

Venom stood up and started picking up trash and putting it into the wastebasket. “The way I see it, you two have a much bigger issue to discuss than the tractor. I know you’re angry and you have every reason to be, but try to remember this is all new territory for him. He’s never been with somebody he wasn’t manipulating for spy business.”

Kaz snorted.

“How about I call a senior officer meeting, and you talk this out? I’ll be there to make sure he doesn’t get weird ideas.”

Kaz drew his knee up to his chin morosely. Venom reached out to ruffle his greasy hair.

“You miss him, don’t you?”

“Shut up,” he muttered.

“Come on. Take a shower and get changed. We’ll be waiting in an hour in my office. Okay?”

Kaz pouted for another minute before rolling his eyes. “Two hours.”

“Attaboy.” Venom picked the pile of crusty dishes and mugs. “I’m gonna take these back. Let me know if you need anything.”

Kaz only grunted in return, but Venom considered this a job well done regardless.

Now to get Ocelot not to slowly ride his tractor away from his problems…

***

Somehow, they both showed up on time.

Venom sighed when at Ocelot’s quiet greeting, Kaz responded with a grunt and by turning away from him, arms crossed. Or rather, empty sleeve wrapped around his other arm. It looked the part, anyway.

“So,” he started, desperate to break the unbearably awkward silence. “This….tractor situation needs to be resolved. Now. The men are upset, and I’m not going back in the field until you are both able to run support. And that means talking to each other.”

“You should be telling this to him,” growled Kaz.

“I tried to explain…”

“You tried to fuck me on a tractor, that is _not_ explaining!”

“Miller, I was just showing you what a precious asset Mr Dee-”

“ _Do not call it that!_ ”

“ _Enough_ !” Both froze. Venom didn’t raise his voice often, almost never actually, but enough was enough. “This is ridiculous. You’re _forty_ -” He ignored Kaz’s mutter that he was 39 “and you’re fighting like children over a _toy_ . Kaz,” he pointed at him. “It’s clear this tractor thing is important to Ocelot and he wants to share it with you. And Ocelot….” Ocelot looked up, wide-eyed as if to ask what oh what he could have _possibly_ done wrong. “Fucking learn to _talk_ to him. It’s all he needs from you.”

Ocelot sighed. Kaz held his haughty pout for a little bit more before finally breaking down. “What did you want to do with the… the tractor?” No name yet, but to be fair Venom couldn’t blame him for that. It was _weird_.

“I told you, Miller. Go on a ride on the conservation platform. With you.”

Kaz slipped his hand under his aviators to pinch the bridge of his nose. “A tractor date.”

“Yes. Sunset, corn on the cob...I thought it sounded nice. We have never actually….you know. I thought that was what people did. I thought you wanted us to be normal people.”

Kaz stance finally dropped. “Going on dates on a tractor is not what normal people do.” He turned slightly to glance at Ocelot. “But I guess we aren’t really normal.”

Ocelot’s face brightened. “Will you go, then?”

Kaz took a deep breath. “If I go, will you stop being so weird about the damn tractor?”

Venom could see the actual physical pain Ocelot felt at not going _actually, Miller, Mr. Deere is an esteemed member of Diamond Dogs_ or some shit. But he didn’t, just nodded. Huh, actual character development was happening right before his eye.

“Fine!” grunted Kaz, wobbling back to his feet. “Take me out on a tractor date if it’s so damn important to you. Who knows, you might be able to change my mind if you don’t act like a total jackass. Pick me up at 6.”

Ocelot and Venom watched Kaz brusquely leave the room. Ocelot was borderline beaming, but Venom wasn’t so sure it was going to be this easy. This was Kaz, after all. And Kaz always had a plan, even if often bad ones.

***

And so Kaz left his quarters at 6pm sharp when an obnoxious horn honked from the platform below. He’d eaten, shaved, worn civilian clothes he hadn’t pulled out of his closet for months. He even splurged on a couple drops of the _good_ cologne, the one that made Ocelot’s heart rate go haywire.

His entire body revolted at the thought of climbing on a tractor for a date, but it was a necessary evil. Ocelot wasn’t bullshitting him this time. Kaz _knew_ what he wanted.

And he was going to get it, in spades.

Ocelot was waiting by the tractor, in a blindingly white shirt and mirror-polished spurs. Kaz accepted the offered hand to climb into the passenger’s seat. If you could call it that. It was awfully tight in the cab once Ocelot had walked around the front and hopped on board.

And then he started the engine.

Kaz hated this. He hated this with every cell of his body, including the missing limbs. The tractor rattled violently, it was slower than walking, the engine was deafening, and it smelled horribly of diesel. Great, he’d wasted the good cologne for this. That shit was _expensive_.

But Ocelot looked so...happy. Gleeful, even. And when his brain wasn’t being shaken in his skull like a bad martini he had to admit, grudgingly, that it was a good look on him. And the clean shirt and trimmed beard too, he _guessed_.

After what felt like forever, Ocelot finally shut off the engine. Kaz’s ears were going to be ringing for a while, but aside from that, everything was quiet. The conservation platform was too far, so he guessed the hydroponic farm on the support platform had to do for rustic backdrop.

This was so fucking stupid. Everything was _hydroponic_. They didn’t need a fucking tractor.

He glanced out of the bug-encrusted windshield to the sun that was slowly dipping, large and red, into the sea. At least the sunset was nice. When was the last time he stopped and looked at a sunset? It couldn’t have been ‘74, right? Right?

Well, at least this time he wasn’t getting his ass sandpapered.

***

“See? It’s not too bad after all,” said Ocelot, leaning against the oversized steering wheel.

Kaz leaned against his shoulder, and oh. He was wearing the fancy cologne Ocelot liked. He smelled good enough to eat. “I guess,” he sighed. Good enough.

Then, Kaz’s hand slid onto Ocelot’s knee. Ocelot sat back, suddenly very aware of the small space they were squeezed into, and how warm Kaz was, and how the setting sun shone just right on his hair to make it look like gold.

“I guess….you weren’t wrong,” he said in Ocelot’s ear softly, his fingers tracing the seam of his pants up his thigh.

“Wasn’t I?”

Kaz turned to brush his lips up his neck, his hand now dangerously close to where Ocelot’s cock was starting to show some interest despite the still healing damage from the crushing. “I guess deep down I must be like a Tennessee gal, in dire need of a strong farmer to take her out on his tractor and do… right to her.” Kaz’s voice dropped to a husky rasp and no power could stop Ocelot from turning around and capturing Kaz’s lips in a kiss.

It was _perfect_. The sunset, Mr. Deere ticking warmly under them, and Kaz’s hand palming at him through his pants as he kissed him deep and sloppy, pushing him into the tractor door. He dipped his fingers in his soft, clean hair and responded in kind.  

“Miss me?” whispered Kaz on his lips when they parted, the ball of his hand grinding, torturously slowly, right where Ocelot needed it most, treading the balance between pleasure and pain.  

“ _Yeah_ ,” he gritted out, arching against that hand. He missed him so _much_. And to have him finally here in Mr. Deere ---

“Good,” grunted Kaz, and sharply pulled back.

 _No no no no_ **_more_**. Ocelot whined deep in his throat as he reached out to pull him back in, but Kaz was already scooting to the end of the seat.

“Maybe you should have thought about how much you’d miss me before you treated me like one of your _marks_ ,” he spat, and then flung the door open and rolled out of the tractor on his stomach.

“Miller, wait -” But the door had already been slammed in his face and his aching, abandoned boner, and Kaz was angrily limping his way back to the connecting bridge.

Ocelot’s hands shook as he fumbled with the ignition and cranked Mr. Deere in reverse with an ear-splitting grinding noise. Thankfully, for as slow as Mr. Deere could be, Kaz was slower, and he caught up with him by the bridge, still stabbing the tarmac with his crutch with every step.

He slowed down until he was just trudging along next to him and rolled down the window.

“Miller, wait.”

Kaz ignored him and kept walking.

“Come on, don’t be this way, it’s so childish.”

Kaz did not rise to the bait.

He was going to keep walking all the way to the command platform, and Ocelot was going to _lose him_ , something not even a decade of spy bullshit had managed to do. His throat was tight and dry when he croaked, “Kaz, _please_.”

Kaz stopped. Ocelot quickly turned off the engine to watch him look up at him. He was flushed and sweaty from exertion and looked so, so tired. “That was all you needed to say from the very beginning.” His lips stretched slightly in a small smile. “You stupid _fuck_.”

Ocelot nearly tripped on the step in his hurry to get off the tractor and hold him.

“This couple bullshit is a lot harder than it seemed at first,” he muttered in Kaz’s sweaty hair, and Kaz finally laughed as he squeezed him with his arm.

“Couple bullshit? Most people call it _normal communication with their partner_.”

“Yeah. That. I’m not used to that.”

“It means you don’t have to play bullshit games to get me to do stuff. You can just talk to me about it.”

Ocelot leaned against one of Mr. Deere’s ample wheels and pulled Kaz with him. “Okay… I’ll try to remember that. I’m sorry for making you feel manipulated.”

Kaz kissed him. “Apology accepted. I’m sorry I wasn’t upfront about why I was so upset.”

Ocelot returned the kiss hungrily and slid his hand down to Kaz’s ass. “Now, where were we?”

Kaz moved Ocelot’s hand right back to where it was. “Listen, I may not be mad at you anymore but that doesn’t change the fact that I have _no intention_ of doing anything on or against this tractor. Besides… Don’t you think that’s a little _disrespectful_ to Mr. Deere?”

 _He said Mr. Deere._ As much as he wanted Kaz to take him right there, Kaz had a point. “Your room, then?”

“Eh, why not? I’ve missed you…”

Ocelot tightened his hold on Kaz for that. _Missed you, too._

***

The radio in Kaz’s room chirped to life to serve as an alarm clock. The next song on Diamond Dogs radio had just started up. Cheesy saxophone intro- yup, it was Careless Whisper. Just like in the field, with Mr. Deere… Ocelot stretched and turned to watch a sleepy and tousled Kaz put on his prosthetic leg.

“Hey,” Ocelot said, voice raspy from sleep.

Kaz turned, milky blue eyes fixed on him. “What?”

“Good morning.” Kaz’s lips curled in a serene smile. If this is what normal couple shit looked and felt like, maybe Ocelot could get used to it.


End file.
